


Something

by Simple_Wicked_Writer



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, F/M, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simple_Wicked_Writer/pseuds/Simple_Wicked_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Think of this as simply my take on a deleted scene between Carol and Daryl that if I had worked for the show I woulda put in the special features of the Season 3 box set. The scene fits right before Rick, Daryl, Oscar and Michonne head off to Woodbury to save Maggie and Glenn. This is a one-shot... nothing more to come. I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something

Carol’s fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt as she tightened her arms in their position across torso. A slight breeze blew over her skin chilling her to the bone. A chill so deep that the bright sunlight overhead did nothing to stop the flow of it deeper and deeper into her being. She felt the sudden rush of tears behind her eyes and firmed her lips against the pull of the sob clawing its way up her throat. She let out a long low breath through her nose as her eyes worked over the newly turned dirt before her and the three crudely made crosses. 

There were no names upon them but it was easy to tell whose was whose by the small personal tokens left behind by the group. Carol’s eyes roamed over the riot shield that T-Dog had taken to carrying with him everywhere since he’d found it settled next to the wooden cross at the far left. Her right hand loosened from her shirt and shifted against her body to lie over her heart. Again the tears began to well behind her eyes but she blinked them back as best she could. 

Now was not the time to weep for him. 

The next grave had her heavy head tilting to the side, and her mouth pulling down in a pain-filled grimace. No item had been laid to rest at the grave-marker of Lori Grimes. No personal touch given to the two pieces of rotted wood that had been haphazardly tied together and plunged into the hard ground. Nothing to signify that anyone had even been down to visit this particular plot.

Carol would have to rectify that. She was not going to allow that brave woman’s children to have nothing but an empty grave and rotted wood to visit when the time came. 

Carol’s eyes shifted over to the last grave and she felt her chin tremble just a bit at the sight of the tiny white flower settled before that wooden cross. She breathed in deeply through her nose and closed her eyes to sound of the approaching footsteps. 

“Beth said you was out here,” Daryl’s voice was low and clipped and Carol opened her eyes as the man came to a stop. “Should be restin’ still.” 

Carol’s eyes skipped over her shoulder to where the man had positioned himself slightly behind her left shoulder and watched his eyes ricochet away from her face and out to three graves before them just as she made eye contact. She smiled slightly and shook her head a bit as she watched him sniff away his unease, or rather his embarrassment. Carol’s eyes slipped back to that small white flower just as Daryl’s gaze moved back to her, and she couldn’t help but let that sad smile on her face grow just a bit. 

“Are they all empty?” Carol asked quietly her arms falling limply from her body as she let her eyes linger upon T-Dog’s grave. Her eyes moved to him when he didn’t answer and she was surprised to find him still staring at her, the sunlight overhead reflecting strangely in his piercing blue eyes. 

“Nah,” Daryl said frowning a bit as he shook his head and skipped his gaze towards the graves. “There wasn’t much left, but we buried what we found of ‘im,” Daryl’s hand shot out fast towards T-Dog’s grave and Carol followed the movement her head nodding as her eyes once again filled with tears. Daryl’s hand motioned towards the center grave and his chin lowered to his chest. “Ain’t no one wanted to go in and gather up what was left of her after---“ Daryl’s voice broke and Carol’s eyes snapped over to him, watching in a strange sort of awe as he hastily wiped the back of his dirty forearm across his wet eyes. He caught her looking and cleared his throat hastily, wiping his arm across his eyes one more time before letting his hand fall to his side in an almost defeated gesture. “I’ll tell ya ‘bout it later.”

“I’m thinking I’d rather not know,” Carol said quietly her eyes sliding back to her friend’s empty grave. She felt his piercing gaze settled upon the side of her face again and she turned with a small smile. “If that’s alright?” Daryl nodded at her, his mouth twitching slightly as he held her gaze. It looked like there was something he wanted to say, but Carol knew from experience whatever it was wouldn’t see the light of day. Fear of rejection ran deep in the man. Too deep for even her very long arms to reach. Carol’s eyes shifted from him again and she lifted her own weary hand tossing it out at the three graves. “Was there a reason for digging? I mean why not just plant the crosses? Why waste the energy---“

“Wasn’t a waste,” Daryl said cutting her off. She turned to him, again shocked to see him hold her stare. Daryl held her gaze for only a moment longer and then he shifted his eyes to where the empty grave of Lori sat. He stared at it for a long time, his mind obviously far away. “Wasn’t a waste at all.” 

Carol stared at the side of his face, watching his jaw muscle tick with the effort he used to control whatever expression he wanted to keep her from seeing. Her hand reached out to the side without any conscious thought involved and she felt him flinch ever so slightly before settling again. Her eyes met his briefly before she turned to look at the graves and he to look at where her fingers had settled upon his upper arm. 

They stood that way for a good long while, the slight breeze blowing around them yet again chilling Carol as she stared at the graves. That white flower settled atop of hers a reminder of the small grave that they’d dug for Sophia what seemed like a lifetime ago. The grave that she’d never be able to visit again. 

“We’ll take it down,” Daryl’s voice echoed through Carol’s ears, and again she turned to find those lovely eyes of his settled up on her. She smiled as he scrunched his face. “The cross and shit,” his hand waved out at her grave and he smiled just slightly when he looked back at her a single humored brow rising. “That was a waste.” 

“Leave it,” Carol said quietly, her hand only now slipping off of his arm and again wrapping around her torso. He was staring at her but she just shook her head. “For now,” Carol said not really wanting to bring up her reasoning behind it. “Just leave it for now, please.” 

The sounds of the group getting things gathered together caught her ears and obviously caught Daryl’s attention as well. They both turned towards the fence to see Rick’s very distinguishable figure settled at the fence staring down at them. Waiting for them. Carol’s eyes shifted to where Daryl stood staring back at Rick. 

Waiting for him.

“We should get back,” Carol said quietly her head bobbing with her words as she again shifted her eyes towards that little white flower settled upon what would have been her grave.

“Yeah,” Daryl said quietly, his own eyes finally shifting away from Rick’s form as it moved from the fences and back towards the waiting vehicles. “Not really sure what we’re runnin’ off into.” Daryl said snaking his fingers through his hair and scratching at the back of his neck. His eyes shifted to her as she turned to him and she saw that fleeting bit of hopelessness and insecurity ride through his eyes. “Not sure if we can trust her or what, but,” he took a breath and let it out slowly. “Gotta check it out right? It’s Maggie and Glenn.” 

Carol nodded and again tightened her arms over her torso, watching the emotions flutter over Daryl’s face. He was an open book when he let his guard down, and just looking at him she could see his worry. His fear that the worst would happen. That it already had happened.

“I’ll tell you this,” Carol said causing his eyes to fly back to her from where they’d settled upon T-Dog and Lori’s graves. She smiled just a bit and waved a hand. “I’m not digging anymore graves.” Daryl scoffed out what she assumed was his try at a laugh and let his hand fall from where it had settled at the back of his neck. 

Again her eyes held onto his, and again her hand moved without any thought. Her fingers this time settled upon his chest, a single broken dirty-encrusted fingernail catching on the button of his shirt. His eyes shifted from her face then and instantly moved to where her nail tapped. He stared at that finger and she was silently grateful that he wasn’t looking at her. 

“You’ll find them,” Carol said quietly, her words echoing strangely in her ears, and obviously wringing that same sort of sad memory out of him. She felt his eyes lift to her and she steeled herself for them before tilting her head up just a bit. She held his gaze and saw him traveling back in time to that little pond and the last real conversation they’d had about Sophia all those months ago. “I see it. You’ll find them.” 

A beat of silence settled between them. A heavy beat in which they maintained a deeper sort of eye contact than they had in months. Months of looking away before that deeper connection could be attained. Months of moving back, and putting up that barrier of friendly borderline-flirty banter that helped to keep the much needed arm’s length between them.

Carol’s mind rocketed back to the look in his eye when he found her in the cell earlier that day. The strange sort of shock, fear and wonder in those powerful piercing orbs of his. The feel of his hand as it roughly turned her face towards him so that he could see in the low light filtering in beyond his shoulder that she was truly alive. That her eyes hadn’t turned that milky shade of death that they’d all grown so accustomed to seeing. The feel of him cradling her so gently in his arms and carrying her away from that horror. That horror that she’d considered her final resting place. 

Arm’s length had been thrown aside as she had rested her head against his chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart hammering against her. Arm’s length had been damned to the lower regions of hell as he held her tighter, closer, and settled his chin, even if briefly, atop her head and breathed out that sigh of relief that had shuddered through them both. 

Her finger tapped on his chest, clicking off that button once more before she lifted her palm and patted him twice. The friendly motion meant to restart that banter and odd sort of distance that they’d both assumed was needed between them. A distance that she suddenly realized wouldn’t be so easy to maintain anymore. 

She moved slowly, as she always did with him when any sort of touching or affectionate embrace was involved. The man was like a stray cat, looking for all the world friendly but horribly stricken by the world around him making any sort of movement from another being instantly seen as intent to harm. She moved slowly and slipped up slightly onto her toes her lips pressing into his warm stubble covered cheek. 

Like always, he flinched, just a bit. His discomforts in her actions clear as she felt the muscles in his chest constrict and tighten under her hand. 

It was a friendly kiss. Nothing more than a peck. And that had been all she’d intended it to be. But that changed when his head shifted as she pulled away. His head shifted and his lips brushed against hers. The electric shock of sensation sent coursing through her in that moment was almost overwhelming, but she didn’t pull away. 

No, she didn’t dare move. 

His lips lingered on hers, their cracked and rough surface pressing against her own less than plump and moist lips. The kiss was simple, in terms of a kiss. No real parting of their lips, no movement really of any kind. It was simple. But in terms of Daryl Dixon, it was far from simple. Far from chaste and far from simply friendly. The length of time that he pressed his lips to hers alone was enough to tell her that. But it was that bit of moisture and sweet little movement at the end just before he pulled away and she settled back down from her toes that cemented the action as more than anything she’d ever thought possible. 

Carol stepped back and caught Daryl’s eyes for the briefest of seconds before he was averting his gaze and rolling his shoulders and adjusting his crossbow along his back. His hands were fidgeting with the strap slung over his body and his eyes were darting about the grass, over the graves and along the fence. Carol felt the smile tugging at the corners of her lips and knew there was no way to control it splitting over her features. His eyes landed on her and she watched him growl and snarl and twitch his face before looking away. She held in the bit of a chuckle at his actions, suddenly feeling like they two school children sharing a kiss on the playground. 

She half expected him to push her to the ground, or tug her hair as he ran off and was shocked when he merely cocked his head to the side in an effort to usher her back to the group. 

“C’mon,” Daryl said, his voice obviously a bit more hoarse than he liked because he glared at the world around them and cleared his throat before again jutting his head to the side twice. His body half turned from her and his hand waved her after him. “We’re losin’ daylight.”

“Right,” Carol said stepping forward and following after him. She walked slightly behind him and couldn’t help but stare at what she could see of his profile as he made a conscious effort to keep his eyes straight forward. Her gaze must have finally got the better of him and he turned towards her briefly, a grimace clear on his face as he slowed his steps and let her catch up. She smiled at him as they walked in silence up the hill towards where Rick, Oscar and that Michonne woman waited. Carol’s steps halted just a bit and she turned to Daryl as they watched Beth approach with them with the baby. 

“We’ll be back,” Daryl said his hand lifting and fingers grazing her arm leaving a trail of tiny little goose-bumps along her bare skin. His hand fell back to his side, his fingers idly wiping along his pants as his eyes held hers. 

“You’d better be,” Carol said just as a worried Beth came to a stop before her. 

Carol smiled at Beth and Daryl nodded at her, his hand lifting again to poke into the tiny belly of the baby before he rounded Beth and headed off. Daryl caught her eye one last time. Again their gazes held and he nodded one last time before turning his back to her fully. Carol’s hand lifted slowly, sliding up over her chin and to her lips. Lips that were still tingling from that chaste, but more than meaningful kiss. A tiny smile cracked her lips as she watched Daryl push Carl’s hat around on his head before heading back inside to finish gathering the supplies. 

“Carol?” Beth’s voice rang out and Carol shook her head slightly, her hand falling from her lips as she looked to the confused girl struggling with the slightly fussing baby in her arms. “I was wondering if you could hold her while I got the bottle ready?” 

“Of course,” Carol said quietly her arms reaching out as Beth extended the tiny little baby girl towards her. She settled the baby in her arms and let her eyes take in the wonder of the little miracle she held. Beth stood next to her for a moment watching Oscar and Carl load up the car as Rick and Hershel spoke in hushed tones with Michonne not far off. She watched the young woman take in a deep breath and extended a hand to her frail shoulders causing Beth to look back at her. “They’ll be fine.” Carol squeezed Beth’s shoulders and shifted her eyes to where Daryl was coming down the steps with some supplies and handing them off to the waiting Carl. His eyes shifted to her and she smiled slightly before squeezing Beth’s shoulder again. “All of them.” 

~Fin


End file.
